


Until I Drift Off To Sleep, Let Me Hear Your Voice

by DimensionSlip



Category: Tales of the Abyss
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 00:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14988476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DimensionSlip/pseuds/DimensionSlip
Summary: The beginning of the end as it's Scored to be.





	Until I Drift Off To Sleep, Let Me Hear Your Voice

The straggling soldiers around the throne room didn't stand a chance against the wrath of the heavens, raining upon them as merciless bolts of lightning from a conjured sky.

When the dust settles and its caster bursts through the doors of the once ostentatious chamber, there's nothing left except the stench of death and burnt flesh--nothing different from the scene that waits outside the palace.

At least until the said person sights a certain blond lying by the throne, and is surprised to find out that the other is still breathing by some miracle of Yulia.

Even so, the clamminess of the person's hand and the gaping hole through the person's chest strongly suggest that whatever time this person has left is of the limited variety, as with seemingly imagined breaths that come out as no more than a rasp. Still, it doesn't stop the caster from applying first aid to the best of his ability and administering gels, and with effect, for the other stirs, bleary eyes looking up at the aforementioned's piercing, red ones.

"Jade...?"

"Your Majesty," is all Jade says as a manner of acknowledgement, betraying no hint of worry in his tone at how weak the other's voice just sounded.

"Didn't I tell you to call me 'Peony' when we're alone?" He feels the other's shoulders tense at a realization he could guess at. "We _are_ alone, aren't we?"

At first, Jade gives a mute nod, but realizing the other probably isn't seeing it given unfocused eyes, he says, "Yes."

"Great." Peony smiles--normally a reason for celebration or for a light tease, but Jade feels neither at the moment. "I knew you'd come."

A small pause lingers between the two of them as Jade's gaze drifts towards the entrance, ears prickling at the dying sounds of battle in the distance.

"Can you stand? We can't stay here for long."

Not really waiting for a response, he slings the Peony's arm over his shoulders amidst a loud groan from the other. And then slowly, but surely, makes his way towards a secret passage only a select few ever knew of. After he closes it behind them, he presses on, stubborn determination shining in his otherwise expressionless eyes. He doesn't bother cleaning up after the blood trailing behind them--by the time they undo the magic on the door, they would've been long out of the city, with no one the wiser as to where they've gone.

* * *

 

"Can we stop for a bit?"

It's about a third through the longest walk of Jade's life that the silence between them is broken, and Jade, despite logic telling him to continue pushing forward, decides to comply. He's careful when setting Peony against the wall before taking a seat next to him.

Peony's breathing is slow but even, and while it should be a source of relief given the most recent turn of events, his unusually cool hand isn't. Jade's always been the cooler of the two of them, and the realization of how things have been rudely switched up brings with it a cold that Keterburg has never been quite able to achieve on its own. Jade doesn't know what else to do--except pray for this chilled hand in his. It's a moment where Jade finds himself truly cursing his inability to use the Seventh Fonon, and then making a sincere, yet irrational wish that he could trade all his fonic abilities for the sole ability to heal and take back what is important to him.

"Jade... don't beat yourself up over this." As if reading his mind, Peony speaks, with his usual cheery smile on his face even if it lacks its usual power behind it. "I don't think even the best Seventh Fonists can handle this situation."

 _You can't be certain about that_ , Jade wants to argue, but a lump in his throat prevents him from anything more than a mute nod he's no longer sure the other could see. And he finds himself turning away from the sight, loosening his grip on Peony's hand as he attempts to begin his fruitless search for the pack of gels that is no longer on his person.

"...Don't let go." It's the most commanding Peony's been since this ordeal, and Jade finds himself pliant when Peony takes his hand, content to sit in silence for what seems like an eternity.

"It's getting dark... and I haven't kissed my cute little Jade good night yet..."

Peony's breath comes out ragged as he exhales, shivering against Jade.

"...You know very well you'll catch rappig flu if you persist on such matters," he replies, surprised to note how smoothly he delivers it despite the odd tightness in his chest.

"Hah... guess so." A weak chuckle escapes Peony at that. "Then... can you do it for me?"

Jade wishes the renewed lump in his throat to go away, but for what it's worth, he's able to say the following, barely above a whisper:

"If that's what His Majesty wishes, then I'll see to it."

"...Good." A squeeze of his hand later, Peony continues, "Jade... I..."

But Jade is left to wonder what Peony meant to say, for that's the moment when the hand of Malkuth's last emperor goes limp in Jade's, a smile playing on the lips of its owner as half-closed, unblinking eyes look up at Jade's face.

Jade isn't the the type to howl when he is in pain. Instead, he keeps the emotion in, allowing himself time to dissect it--take it away piece by piece and through endless cycles of rationalization, lets it peter out, with none the wiser.

But while Jade doesn't howl and keeps the emotion in as is his usual, he doesn't take the time to tear it down. Instead, he allows it to burn, letting the ache overcome his heart as it pounds heavily against his chest. It makes it almost difficult to stand up, but he does anyway. He's stayed alive all these years for a reason, after all, and it's a reason that comes to him as easily as daylight once a certain line from a prophecy he's long memorized comes to mind.

"I will... realize the Score."

This isn't what Peony would've wanted. He knows that well. But Peony's dead, and no amount of fulfilling the dead's will would ever bring him back.

No one had to tell him twice, and at this point, no one ever will.

* * *

  _ND2020. A mountain of corpses shall bury the fortress capital. Death and disease shall envelope the city. The plague born thence shall become a new poison unto humanity, killing all within its reach. Its spread shall mark the true end of Malkuth. Kimlasca shall enjoy decades of prosperity as the plague of Malkuth grows. Ultimately, the plague will be brought into the Kimlascan kingdom by a single man._


End file.
